Angel's Obsession
by Rayofsunshine1993
Summary: It's the Phantom of the Opera in our modern world. Christine, the sad orphan who becomes the object of the ghost's obsession. Raoul, Christine's childhood sweetheart, who will she choose. Or does she have a choice?


I awoke with the scent of roses, freshly cut. The morning dew was still dripping from their leaves, and each one was wrapped with a black silk ribbon, 7 in all. Oh my angel, father did so well picking you out for me.

"Christine, hurry or we'll be late for school! Again!" Meg stormed into our dorm, backpack around her shoulders and her long blonde hair placed up nicely in a bun. I groaned and quickly scrambled out of bed, and rushed into the bathroom.

"What time did you go to bed Christine? You certainly weren't in our room when I went to sleep." Meg stood next to me as I quickly brushed my teeth and threw my hair up.

"Umm, I don't remember, 1 or 2 maybe." I ran back into the room, threw on a summer dress, and grabbed my bag.

"What on Earth are you doing Christine? You're not doing drugs are you?" We rushed down the hallway of the old Parisian opera house, bumping into actors, and tripping crew members; quickly followed with apologies of course.

"No Meg don't be silly, I was rehearsing." We passed by Madame Giry who was just shaking her head as we ran by.

"We have rehearsals after school Christine, so I know that's not what you were doing. You're my best friend, and I have the right to know." The morning Parisian streets didn't warmly welcome us as we dashed down them trying to get to the Metro. Angry people cursed at us in French, telling us to slow down, or watch out.

"You'll think I'm crazy Meg." We ran down the Metro steps, and the station smelled of urine. The doors shut behind us as we barley made it on.

"Try me Christine." We sat on the seats in the front of the car. I sighed.

"I was being given vocal lessons."

"By who? And why so late in the hour?" Meg shifted and her entire body faced me.

"An angel, and because that is the only time I have free." I looked away because I knew what she thought. Meg sighed.

"Really, an angel is giving you lessons?" I grabbed Meg's hands.

"Not just any angel Meg. The angel of music, remember I told you the stories. When my father was dying he vowed that he would send the angel of music, oh and he did Meg. Not to long after your mother brought me here, over from America, did he begin to coach me. Please don't think I'm crazy." I sounded desperate for Meg's approval. I didn't want to lose my best friend like how I lost my mother and father, and my baby sister too.

"Christine please don't be superstitious, and of course I don't think that you are crazy, maybe still grief stricken." Her large blue eyes softened, and I knew that she began to pity me. I pulled my hands away from hers and sat them in my lap.

"I will always be grief stricken Meg, I loved them all so dearly. But he saved me from drowning in my grief, he was my life saver."

"Do you know his name?" Meg tried to sound like she believed me, but deep down I think she was only indulging me.

"I haven't even seen his face." I glanced up. "Come on, this is our stop, we'll talk more after school is done." Meg nodded her head and we got off the Metro, and didn't speak at all on the walk to school.

"Am I crazy angel? Are you just a figment of my imagination? Something my mind made up so I wouldn't go insane?" I didn't directly ask him, I was just asking my self out loud while walking to the chapel. A stained glass portrait of the Virgin Mary with her arms open greeted me as I walked into the modest church. Photos of our loved ones lined up on the wall, each frame had a candle, and every night I lit three. I struck a match and lit my father's first. Gustave Daae, the violinist. My mother came next. Marie Daae, the pianist. And thirdly came that of my little sister Sophia, the comedienne.

I knelt there for what felt like hours, watching the flames flicker in front of their handsome faces. Such a lovely bunch they are. A tear streamed down my cheek, and my heart yearned for them. Just to hear the violin, the piano, Sophia's laughter. After 10 years I thought my tears had ran dry.

"Do not cry child." I looked up to the ceiling where the voice came from. It was my angel's.

"Oh angel, it is the most awful feeling to want something so bad, and yet knowing that you'll never be able to get it." I stood up and wiped off my knees. The floors were old and dusty.

"That is a feeling I too, can relate to. Something of your up most desire, is the same thing you know you can never have." A twinge of sadness was in his voice.

"You are an angel, everything for you is supposed to be perfect." A small chuckle came from him.

"Nothing is perfect, not even for angels, they yearn for perfection just like everyone else."

"You're perfect to me." I stared up at the ceiling, hoping that maybe he would emerge, and I could see the face of the angel that saved me from my own doom.

"You flatter me child, but you must understand that it is you who is the model of perfection." My face blushed. Could he see it? I placed my hands on my cheeks, and another small chuckle emerged, and my face grew more red.

"I must be going angel. I'm afraid that if I over sleep one more time that Meg will kill me."

"Very well, but lessons resume tomorrow."

"Until then angel." I walked out of the chapel, and heard his whispered farewell.

"Farewell my Christine."


End file.
